I sat down after the initial color was placed… staring at the blurred color which hadn’t even been in my thoughts ,yet here it was staring me in the face. What the fuck am I going to do with this. I was dumbfounded with how many emotions raced over me with such a simple decision. So just like life I just moved forward and kept going.
With each new color or flick of my wrist a sense of control was shared. I wanted to let go of the need to make something beautiful, something that makes sense, what I think my art should be, and just feel myself in my moment.
Blaming base coats for being to thick, paints for being to thin, the lighting being to bright, the room being to cold or the tunes that are interrupted by a low WiFi signal were just a few things trying to make it to the canvas in a frustrating way.
Little by little the picture changed, and of course in a direction I was blinded to. The inportant part was…. I wasn’t going to walk away from something that I knew was me. Even in all the frustration and ridiculous thoughts, my art was sitting in from of me asking , “please see more”.
Life is one in the same. Shit happens. Colors like people and situations are painted upon our minds making its way onto our canvas’ of life. We have choices to make in which we should want more of ourselves.
Fear should not hinder the art. Do I see mistakes or choices I wish I could alter or change, maybe, but I worked through to find what was needed. Even turning the canvas in the direction it was calling me to feel it.
No, this painting isn’t finished … it’s started.
That’s what’s so amazing .
I find myself going into that deep cold abyss . When all the sounds and chaos is finally silenced. My emotions come to a staggering halt as I try to find the breath that will taste like me again. Where did I go? How did I get here? And where will I go from here?
All wonderful questions; if I could just for a moment find clearity. Yet, … all I feel at the moment ….. numb seems to be the only word worth writing. Takes two to thrive and grow, but it also takes two to whither and die. Can it really be that love for a person is so much stronger than love for the relationship itself. So confused yet such clearity. I am just so tired of crying and chasing someone who won’t open their arms.